Dead and Gone
by Zoge Hetai
Summary: As always, it deals with Reid. What happens to Reid when the team is too late. What's the aftermath? Character Death, and gore.
1. Chapter 1

**This is just a short fanfic that I thought of at three in the morning. I wrote it on my notepad app on my phone, so here goes.**

Reid's tears cascaded down his pale bruised face. He pulled at his restraints as the cloaked man stood over him. He felt the trickle of blood come down his wrist

from where he had rubbed it raw. His breath hitched as he saw the glint of the copper stained knife. His eyes dilated as the man brushed it against his

exposed shoulder. The man placed more pressure onto the knife, and dragged it across the pale skin. Reid moaned in pain, feeling the warm viscose liquid as it

dripped onto the cement floor.

"Please, sto…" His pleading was stopped short as the knife plunged into his shoulder, and trailed down into his chest. A loud popping noise echoed through the

empty cellar, and was followed by an anguished cry. The knife was twisted, and a gurgled scream freed itself from his bloodied throat. The crimson life source

flowed freely from the jagged hole. Reid could feel as his right lung began to fill with an alien substance. His body was racked with pained coughs as his lungs

tried to rid themselves of the invader. Bright red drops appeared on his chapped lips, and revealed the damage done. His mind began to fog over, and his

extremities became numb. He could distinctly feel the stinging of the knife entering and leaving his body continuously. Black dots began to dance across his

vision, bringing a smile to his lips. For some reason, the small imaginary brought him joy in the dreary situation. His mind cleared momentarily, and he realized

that they were going to be too late. This unsub only held his victims for a short period of time, three days maximum, and those three days had come and gone.

The luminous moment left, and Reid returned to perceiving the world through a thick film. A sudden pain in his chest caused him to cry out once more before he

fell silent, his head lolled to his right. His eyelids began to flutter as his mind started to shut down. He could barely feel the blood as it climbed his throat and

leaked through his chapped lips. Reid knew that there was no cheating death, and from recollecting his previous encounters, he had already deceived death on

multiple occasions. Reid let his eyelids slip close, and his body sag. He welcomed the darkness like an old friend as it caressed him in its grip. His breathing

slowed significantly, and then stopped altogether. His heart gave a few last beats before stopping eternally. Seconds passed, and Dr. Spencer Reid was no

more.

**Ok, so I don't know if I should continue, its up to you guys if you want to see reactions, and what basically comes next. Love you all! **


	2. Continued Chaos

**That was a response I didn't expect to receive. So this makes it no longer a one-shot. Thank you all! **

**As you all know, this is chapter 2 in Dead and Gone. You are now tuned into the Spencer Reid channel of Epic!**

The cloaked figure made quick work of the body. The white male turned toward his box of goodies. Inside was a selection of knives, guns, scalpels, and screw drivers. He gingerly picked up his favorite scalpel. It had been recently sharpened, and cleaned. He had fashioned the tool out of an old blade, and a rib from one of his previous victims. It seemed to shine as it hit the light. He brought the scalpel towards the dead mans stomach. Slowly, he dragged the sharp utensil down the middle of the abdomen. A small amount of blood bubbled to the surface. The cloaked man dug the scalpel deeper into the pale skin. Blood smeared the already crimson stained skin. The man delicately placed the scalpel onto the small table to his right. He pulled out a pair of rubber latex free gloves from his box of goodies. Once he had applied them, he harshly dug one finger into the slim laceration. He shoved another finger in the cut, causing the tear to widen. He did the same with his other hand. Slowly, as to not make a hole larger than wanted, he pulled the tissue apart. A smile slowly painted itself across his face as he heard the tear of flesh. The distinctive squishing sound bounced around in his ears, causing him to be aroused. The hole became wider, and he could see the intestines gleam in the dim light. Carefully, as if holding a newborn, he scoped up the small and large intestines. Blood dribbled in between his fingers. He brought them close to his face, and let them stain his face. He inhaled the sickly sweet smell of the inner confines that his victim had graciously provided him. A sterilized white bucket sat near his left foot. He bent over, and gingerly placed the intestines in the bucket. Next to enter the bucket was the stomach, and everything attacked to it. He cut the esophagus and took out the lungs. He detached the heart from the lungs, and sat it next to his victim. He looked at his handy work and laughed. Each incision; each mark corresponded with the shape of the body. The stomach flaps had now sunk in. An irritated frown replaced his smile, and he stomped out. A few minutes later, he returned with some burlap material, and two small pillows. In his hand, he held a spool of thread, and a needle. He threw the burlap material onto the floor, and dropped the pillows onto the small table. With the bloody scalpel, he cut the pillows open. White fluff spilled through the severed crack. He brutally grabbed a handful of fluff, and began to shoved it into the carcass. He repeated the process until the empty shell was filled with pillow fluff. He brought up the threaded needle to the pale skin. He hastily plunged the needle into the skin, and began to stitch the wound together.

He finished, and stood. Thin, long fingers ran across the amateur stitching. His mind turned back to the burlap sack. The white male spun on his heels, and gathered the burlap sack into his arms. He crossed the large table, where the carcass lay, and sprawled the cloth on the floor. It was about five feet by nine feet. He smiled yet again, and pushed the body off the large wooden table. The body fell to the floor, onto the burlap sack , with a large thud. The man hastily wrapped the dead agent in the material. Tufts of mousy brown hair peeked through the top of the cloth. Without wasting anymore time, the man gathered the carcass in his arms, and walked off. A happy tune in his ears as he whistled all the way to the van that awaited him in his backyard. The night sky shown bright as he felt the cool air caress his skin. The days events happily replayed in his mind from the time he had taken the boy, to a few minutes ago. The dark blue van could be seen as it loomed over the mans small figure. He bent over and placed the body on the floor. His footsteps could be heard as he walked toward the van. His hand clasped the lever, and, with the twist of his wrist; he opened the seemingly giant doors. He smiled and returned toward the body. With a heave, he lifted it, and carried it toward the van. The head was placed into the van first, and the rest of the body was pushed in after. The doors slammed shut, and the engine roared to life only minutes later.

**The dump site comes next... thank you for following, commenting, and reviewing!**


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